


Empires and Lions

by BudderTygress



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Male Character, Gay Panic, Jaskier | Dandelion Needs a Hug, Lemon, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Manipulation, Nilfgaard, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Torture, Psychological Torture, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22656118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BudderTygress/pseuds/BudderTygress
Summary: Arkelia of Kovir is an anomaly, a white-haired, golden-eyed girl born of a rejected sorceress and an unknown father. Born a slave in Kovir, she lived most of her life following orders, under punishment of death, but when a Kaedwenian Witch steals her away, her true destiny is revealed. She learns what she is meant to be, the only one of her kind, a natural-born Witcher. Her new life in Kaedwen brings her straight into Geralt of Rivia's path, who has been tasked with 'saving' her from the Witch Pareilla. When her loyalty to traditional Witcher ideals comes into question, she finds a new home with the most hated enemy of the Continent, Nilfgaard.*This fanfiction is based on the books, games, and Netflix series, as well as some *very* not cannon stuff happening, but, that's what Fanfics are for right?*
Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Vernon Roche/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Lamplight

"Are these mountains creeping you out too? Because I'm freaked the hell out." 

"Arkelia"

"Sorry, Geralt, why are we this far south again?" Geralt huffs, wishing his student wasn't so inquisitive. "There's either a monster to kill or coin to be had, that..."

"That's the life, I know, but why are we helping Nilfgaard?" Roach huffs, shaking her head, and Griffon responds in kind "I don't ask too many questions." She speaks quietly to her horse, and Geralt responds patronizingly "I thought you were pretty friendly with Nilfgaard, especially after Foltest's gala." Arkelia's face reddens as Geralt increases Roach's pace, leaving Arkelia in the dust. She mumbles under her breath to Griffon before rushing to catch up. "You didn't have to bring that up. Anyways, Witchers don't take sides, right?" Geralt 'hmm's as they enter the town, Nilfgaardian flags lining the street as they head to the mayor's home. Two soldiers stop them a few yards short of the building. "What's your business here?" Geralt speaks with practiced grace "The mayor called for a Witcher, here we are." The soldier was about to retort when a tall woman approached from the house, long grey robes flowing around her. "Stand aside, we've been expecting them." 

The soldier closest to Arkelia nods and reaches for Griffon's reins, she recoils and neighs "I wouldn't suggest touching her, she gets testy around strangers." The man huffs and walks away as Geralt and Arkelia dismount, the woman leading them to a stable nearby. "I promise, your horses will be safe here."

"Why did you..." Geralt gives the woman a suspicious glance

"I can tell you do not trust us little one." The woman ignores Geralt, brushing his comment aside. She turns to Arkelia, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "This way, we'll tell you of your quarry." The woman leads Arkelia and Geralt toward the house, the tall spires and intricate stonework a stark contrast to the wooden shacks she's used to seeing. Arkelia decides to pry a bit "You haven't told us who you are." The woman keeps a warm look in her eyes "My name is Fringilla, I'm a mage employed by Imperator Emhyr of Nilfgaard, I'm currently serving as the advisor to his Knight. And who are you little one?" 

"Well, you already know I'm a Witcher, but my name's Arkelia. I'm this crotchety old man's student." Geralt glares down at Arkelia and she recoils slightly. Fringilla laughs warmly as they enter the house, the inside even more exquisite than the outside, dark oak and stone lining the walls and floor, with a large black flag hanging from the second story. Fringilla leads them upstairs and into a small library, there are a few people wandering around, all various stages of morose and melancholy. She leads them toward the center of the library, to a large oak desk. 

A tall brunette man sits behind it, icy blue eyes scanning the pages of a large book, as they approach, his eyes meet Fringilla, who stands in front of him. "The Witchers we sent for are here, Geralt of Rivia and Arkelia of..." She trails off, and Arkelia racks her brain for a moment before Geralt interjects "We're here for whatever so-called monster is in your way, not for pleasantries and titles." The man's eyes bore into Geralt for a moment before looking over the pair with newfound interest. "The beast is real, none of my men have been able to injure it, and I'm growing tired of losing men in a fruitless endeavor." He stands from behind the desk, eyes boring into Geralt's. "I do not doubt your ability to fight the monster, but I do doubt if I can trust you." His eyes return to Arkelia and she feels her heart lurch into her throat. Fringilla steps forward "We can trust them Cahir, they've proven themselves in the past, if what I've heard is true, they'll have no problem dealing with the Kikimora, will you?" She turns at the last statement to Geralt, who looks extremely annoyed with how everything has turned out.

Cahir looks from Geralt to Fringilla for a second then turns to Arkelia, "Where are you from?" It seemed more of a command than a request, and Arkelia paused for a moment, she never really had a home, sure she was born in the slaver colonies in Kovir, but Kaedwen had always felt like home. Geralt snaps almost instantly "Her homeland is none of your concern." Cahir was about to respond when Arkelia cuts in "Kovir, I was born in Kovir" Geralt gives Arkelia a look that screamed shut the hell up. Cahir looks to Arkelia "Thank you, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Geralt gives Cahir an annoyed glance before Fringilla starts speaking again. "The Kikimora lives in the mountains, it attacks anyone who goes too close to its lair, or if there is a large group." 

"Like your army, or any group you send to kill it." Geralt 'hmm's and looks Cahir in the eyes. "Five-hundred orens, after we return"

"Of course, it won't be hard to find, especially for a seasoned Witcher like yourself." Cahir sits down and Fringilla gestures back towards the entrance to the library. As the pair turns to leave, Arkelia can feel Cahir's icy eyes burning into the back of her neck. She's never really felt self-conscious of her scars, but somehow those ice-colored eyes made her feel timid and fragile. Her hand unconsciously rubs the brand on her neck, bringing horrid memories back to the forefront of her mind. Fringilla leads them outside to their horses and gives them one final warning. "Be wary of the Kikimora's den, the ground isn't stable this time of year, and the caves under the mountains can be treacherous." 

Arkelia nods and they follow the trail back into the mountains, following the few signs of a Kikimora's presence. Roach and Griffon start becoming more alert and skittish the further they ride from the trail. "Well, at least I know why these mountains were creeping the hell out of me earlier..." Arkelia smiles to brighten the mood a bit, but Geralt huffs and turns to her, anger burning in his golden eyes. "You need to have a bit more discretion when talking to people, there's a reason Witchers had the conditioning we do, it kept us safe, and kept us from making stupid decisions based on our feelings." His voice raises as he speaks. Geralt stops Roach and dismounts. "We're here." He turns from her and walks away towards an opening between the mountaintops, leaving Roach tied to a small tree. Arkelia stops and stares for a moment, she knows she's not the same as him, nothing like him in fact, but for the last few weeks, he's become much more harsh about it. Arkelia drops down from Griffon's back and ties her next to Roach, walking slowly behind Geralt, racking her brain for how she always finds some way to ruin a situation.

Arkelia follows Geralt between the mountaintops and peers around a corner across from him, a tall Kikimora pacing in the center of a small vale. The pacing creature hissing and clicking as if it's guarding something. Geralt gives her a knowing glance and takes a vial of black potion, drinking it quickly while Arkelia moves out of the shadows around the vale quickly and quietly, moving to the other side of the creature. Suddenly, Geralt moves from his hiding place, both swords drawn and ready as the creature notices him and roars, a horrible screeching sound piercing Arkelia's eardrums. It leaps to attack and Geralt begins the fight, his eyes transitioned to an inky black, he parries each blow from the creature's legs as Arkelia moves to flank it, She reaches the creature and manages to cause a few injuries. 

The Kikimora stomps the ground and the dry earth cracks under its claws. Arkelia crouches down, watching the ground crack and separate as the creature stomps more and starts running toward the next vale, Geralt close behind "Keep up Arkelia!" He growls over his shoulder as he disappears around the mountaintop. "Gods damn it all..." Arkelia tries to launch herself forward, but the ground starts to crack under her weight, and the dirt begins to fall, dragging her down with it. She frantically starts grabbing at any stable ground, but it all starts slipping away. She yells for Geralt, but he's too far away to hear her fall. Arkelia loses her grip on the solid ground, and plummets past the ground, cold air rushing to embrace her as her head strikes a rock, the last thing she sees as darkness engulfs her sight is the bright sun setting above her, heralding another night.


	2. Hole in the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *I figured out how to use italics LOL*

Arkelia lurches awake, a nightmare fresh on the edges of her mind as she sits up trembling, rubbing the sore spot on her head from where she hit the rocks. Her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness around her as she stands on wobbly legs, mentally checking for any broken bones. “Damnit… how far down am I?” She looks up from where she fell, the moon casting shadows around her. Groaning, she takes a ball of straw from a pouch on her hip and draws a broken triangle in the air. “Igni” she whispers into the quiet air, and the ball catches fire in her palm, lighting the cave around her. She listens to the silent air around her for a moment, before she hears an almost imperceivable sound. _Arkelia...Arkelia…_ She shudders at the sound of a whisper coming from the tunnel before her, the inky blackness drawing her in. She stands stock-still for a moment before taking a step toward the tunnel, the flame in her hand sputtering before she revitalizes it.  
Arkelia makes up her mind and begins walking into the tunnel, she walks for what feels like hours through the dark, her sign the only light she can see. Suddenly, the flat walls of the cavern open wide, and pillars line the walkway ahead of her. “What the hell is this place?” She peers around the room, the flame in her hand expanding as she focuses more energy on it. Arkelia continues walking forward, and she notices a torch nearby, lighting it quickly with the flame from her hand. Arkelia extinguishes her sign, shoulders dropping from exertion, and grabs the torch. She continues onward, barely noticing a table in front of her, she hears a voice far behind her. “Arkelia! Arkelia where are you?” Geralt runs into the cavern behind her. He sighs in relief “Thank the Gods you’re alright… what is this place?” Arkelia shrugs “I don’t know, I just fell down that hole and thought this was a way out, guess I was wrong.”  
Geralt repeats the sign for Igni, creating a much larger fire than Arkelia’s, lighting the entire room, revealing a tall cavern with pillars holding the ceiling high. Arkelia squints at the table, a white-ish lump sitting against it. She walks towards the table, an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach as she approaches. _Arkelia… Arkelia…_ She recoils as the same whisper reaches her ears. Geralt walks past her and kneels in front of the lump “no…” he speaks quietly, and Arkelia walks behind him, a Witcher medallion in his hand “Cat school, a bunch of psychopaths.” He stands quietly and lights another torch on the table. A tall bookshelf stands behind the table, full of old-looking tomes and loose paper. Geralt runs a hand over some of the tomes “You should take a few of these, they’ll teach you more about our order than I ever could.”  
He places a few dusty tomes on the table before turning to investigate the rest of the room. Arkelia shudders and wraps her arms over her chest, suddenly extremely cold. _Arkelia…_ turning to the bookshelf, she feels drawn to twin silver-and-black-bound books. Running her finger over the spines, she carefully takes the two books in hand and reads their covers; A History of Nilfgaard and Her People and a stranger title The White Flame. A shiver runs down her spine and she hears the strange whispers again, louder, and much more urgent. _Arkelia…_ she looks at the shelf again, and a small silver necklace rests farther back. Taking it in hand, it feels like grabbing a freshly-made dagger. She takes a closer look at it, a small white flame on a silver chain, her eyes grow wide as the pendant burns her hand painfully before the world turns white.  
A deep voice echoes around her in the white void _What do you seek, Arkelia of Kovir? Riches, fame? Or something else entirely?_  
“Wh...who are you?” her voice trembles as she glances around the white void. _Your destiny is closer than you realize, young Witcher… watch for the signs… and watch those closest to you…_ Arkelia recoils as the world moves around her, swirling silvery flames dancing in her eyes. She squints at something in the distance, a shadowy figure sitting astride a dark horse. Suddenly, everything goes dark again, all except for a pair of ice-blue eyes boring into hers. She gasps, scrambling backward and catching herself on a wall. Strong hands grasp her shoulders, the sensation drags her from the dream-like trance, and she realizes Geralt is shaking her, a worried look in his eyes. “Arkelia, Arkelia! Are you alright?” Arkelia nods, trying to stand as her head pounds, Geralt steadies her before looking at the pendant in her hand. He reaches for it but decides against it. “What happened Arkelia?” She shakes her head slightly “I.. I don’t know what happened…” She trails off and looks at her hand, the burn almost completely healed. “Alright, let’s look around for a few minutes more, then we’ll head back to the surface, alright?” Arkelia nods and Geralt searches the table, looking for something. She feels a breeze on the back of her neck and turns around slowly, noticing the strange stonework next to the shelves. Running her hand over the stone, she finds an indention in the shape of a wolf’s head, just like Geralt’s medallion. She pauses for a moment, her head still pounding, and turns to Geralt “Geralt… I think I…”  
“We need to leave, now.” Geralt growls the words like an angry wolf and turns away, walking quickly toward the tunnel entrance. “But, I found somethi....”  
“We’re leaving, now Arkelia, don’t make me repeat myself.” Geralt interrupts and leaves her standing by the bookshelf, the strange room eerily quiet. Arkelia pauses for a moment, glancing at the strange stones before quickly following after Geralt. She catches up to him and follows a few paces behind, pondering her odd vision, and the strange pendant. She holds the silver flame up to her torch to see it better and decides to secure the silver thing around her neck. The cold metal gives her a strange sense of comfort as it rests on her chest, and she notices Geralt looking at her for a second before turning back.  
They reach the hole after what feels like hours of silent travel, and Geralt climbs out first, showing Arkelia the safest route. Arkelia struggles slightly with her injured shoulder, and her head throbs as she drags herself to the surface, successfully inhaling an absurd amount of dirt in the process. Geralt rides Roach to Arkelia, leading Griffon behind him. Arkelia pulls herself into the saddle, coughing painfully to get the dirt out of her lungs. Geralt gives her an appraising look and starts riding back to town, the Kikimora tied onto Roach’s back. Arkelia follows close behind, an unnatural silence stresses the air between them, and they ride back to town silent, not sharing a single word or snarky comment.  
Arkelia breaks the silence once they reach town “I’ll be at the Inn if you need me.” Geralt turns to her “You should give those Nilfgaardian tomes to Cahir, maybe he’ll let us stay in town a few days.” His patronizing tone leaking through his advice before he hops from Roach’s back, leaving her in the stables as he heads to the mayor’s house. Arkelia sighs and pats Griffon’s neck before dismounting and grabbing her bag-o-books, heading inside the Inn to clean and dress her wounds, as well as nurse her throbbing headache. She sits on the floor of her and Geralt’s shared room and takes The White Flame out of her satchel. The cover is much more intricate than she had first realized, white fire blazes on the cover, with a braided silver, gold, and black design. She opens the book to a seemingly random page and begins reading.  
 _‘Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf’s blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame.’_  
Reading the prophecy, a heavy feeling presses into her chest, she grabs the pendant around her neck, the tiny silver flame burning her soul. A knock sounds on the door, and she jumps, quickly placing a small flower on the page as a bookmark. Standing carefully, to not aggravate her headache, she walks to the door and opens it. Fringilla’s smile greets her “Hello Arkelia, I was hoping to find you here, Cahir wishes to speak with you whenever you can.” She smiles in response “Of course, I found something I believe would interest both of you.” Fringilla already seems interested in the prospect, and Arkelia hands her the two books. Fringilla’s eyes light up, and she smiles broadly. “Where did you find these? They’re very old” She examines the books with reverence, clearly excited to see them in good condition. “Nevermind, you can tell us both all about it when we meet later.” She hands the books back to Arkelia. “Head to the mayor’s office whenever you’re ready, and a word of advice, let Cahir speak first.” Arkelia nods and Fringilla leaves her standing in the doorway to the room.  
Arkelia changes into a clean tunic and pants, straightening out her appearance and collecting the two books. She heads out of the Inn, walking quickly to the mayor’s house and heading inside. The architecture of the building is still awe-inspiring. Arkelia walks upstairs quickly, entering the library and finding the room marked ‘office’. Steadying her nerves, Arkelia opens the door and quietly steps inside. The walls and floor were the same dark oak from the rest of the house. Cahir sits behind a large oak desk, reading while Fringilla sits in a chair nearby. Arkelia approaches the desk and stands quietly, holding the two books in hand, and following Fringilla’s advice to let Cahir speak first.  
After a moment, Cahir sets his book down and his icy blue eyes look her over. “I appreciate your patience, not many people can stand a silent room for long.” Cahir leans forward in his chair, crossing his arms over a knee “Fringilla told me you found something while fighting the Kikimora?” He seems almost as interested as Fringilla “I found these books in an old Witcher monastery.” Cahir reaches out his hand for the books, and Arkelia sets them in his hand as she explains. “I fell into the Kikimora’s den, and took a wrong turn, the books were there among others.” She debates telling them about the pendant, but Cahir interjects before she could mention it. “Fascinating, I’ve never seen copies this old before, have you Fringilla?”  
“No, I haven’t even seen a tome this old since Aretuza.” Fringilla carefully examines the copy of A History of Nilfgaard and Her People while Cahir opens The White Flame to her bookmark. He takes the small flower and smiles, looking up to Arkelia and setting the flower back where it was. “Fringilla, I need to speak with Arkelia, would you…”  
“Of course, I will return when you need me again.” Fringilla smiles at Arkelia as she walks past and leaves. “Do you trust us Arkelia?”  
“Hmm? What do you mean?” Arkelia levels her eyes with Cahir’s and his smile returns. “It is a serious question, do you trust Nilfgaard?” He regards Arkelia carefully as she determines her answer. “Nilfgaard or her people have never broken my trust, so I have no reason not to.” Cahir gestures to a chair near his desk, and Arkelia sits down and her eyes scan Cahir’s face for a change in expression, but his pleased smile remains unchanged. “Thank you for the books” he picks up The White Flame and opens it to her bookmark again “As well as the flower, your bookmark I presume?” He holds the small flower between two fingers, examining it. “Yes, my apologies, I was curious to learn about what drives your people.”  
“My people? I am not Nilfgaardian by blood, though I do swear my fealty to Imperator Emhyr as his knight.” Arkelia’s face contorts in confusion for a moment. “Is there a difference? If you swear fealty to a people, and act as one of them, are you not one of them?”  
“Most Nilfgaardians only accept those born in Nilfgaard as true citizens, no matter how important you seem to be.” Cahir’s smile wavers as he admits this, but his smile steadies as he continues. “Although, Nilfgaard accepts any willing to serve the White Flame.” His eyes dart to her chest for a second, clearly noticing the silver pendant over her shirt. “Something tells me you found more than just a few old books in that monastery Arkelia. Or to be more specific, something found you.” His bright eyes bore into hers, asking nothing and everything all at once.  
“You want to know what I saw? When I picked up the pendant.” Cahir nods “Fringilla told me she saw you wearing it, and had felt the White Flame calling to someone, so we had to assume it was you.”  
Arkelia bows her head slightly “I don’t truly understand what happened, I’m not sure if I could even attempt to explain it well.” Cahir shakes his head “No need, Fringilla can show your memories to us, even the vision you did not understand.” Fringilla enters the room again and looks to Cahir, and then to Arkelia, who seemed confused by the prospect. “No mage I’ve ever seen has that power.”  
“I am no ordinary mage Arkelia, I wield the strength to do so.” Fringilla extends her hand to Arkelia, who wearily stands and accepts the offer. Fringilla reaches for Cahir’s hand, who accepts as well. Fringilla closes her eyes and recites a spell in Elder, she opens her eyes and turns to Arkelia. “Think about what happened when you touched the pendant, exactly what you heard and saw, the spell will help you remember.” Arkelia thinks to that moment, trying to ignore her emotions and ignore how stupid she feels. Surprisingly, her memories swim to the front of her mind within moments, reliving what has already happened. Her vision turned white, and her eyes opening to the white void, the deep, booming voice shaking her soul _What do you seek, Arkelia of Kovir? Riches, fame? Or something else entirely?_  
“Wh...who are you?” vision-her voice trembled as she glanced around the white void. _Your destiny is closer than you realize, young Witcher… watch for the signs… and watch those closest to you…_ vision-Arkelia recoiled as the world moves around her, swirling silver flames dancing in her eyes, She squints at something in the distance, which she can see much more clearly now, a Nilfgaardian knight in the distance, with eyes of ice. Suddenly, everything went dark again, all except for a familiar pair of ice-blue eyes boring into hers. Arkelia gasps for breath as she leaves the strange trance, And the Nilfgaardians both give her wide-eyed looks as she stumbles and falls to the floor, her eyes drooping with exhaustion. Cahir knees in front of her, his lips moving as he says something she can’t hear, cupping her cheek as her eyes flutter closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Apparently I enjoy forcing myself to write at ungodly hours of the night to be the most productive*


	3. A New Brand of Hell

_ Arkelia’s eyes slowly blink open, the bright moon blinding her for a moment. She shields her eyes and sits up, looking around. She’s in a bright meadow surrounded by trees with a dead fire and Geralt and Jaskier’s mats nearby. She stands on shaky legs as she peers between the trees, something doesn’t feel right. Arkelia starts checking the small campsite for any signs of Geralt or Jaskier, and notices neither Griffon or Roach anywhere nearby. Her brain goes on high alert, and she starts calling for the others. “Geralt? Jaskier? Roach? Griffon? Where are you?” She starts to worry when she hears a loud cry far off in the woodline. “Shit…” She sprints toward the sound, swords drawn, and she comes across a large log wall, blurry guards stand in front of the gates, and Arkelia rubs her eyes to put them into focus. When that doesn’t work, she rushes toward the wall and peers through the logs. Geralt and Jeskier are tied, back to back with more blurry figures standing in front of them, the figure says something unintelligible, and Jaskier retorts quickly. “Oh, no, no, no, you’re all screwed. When Arkelia gets here…" a dark laugh interrupts him, clear and ringing. “Your friend abandoned you, the moment we took you.” The man appears, his skin sickly pale, with red markings surrounding his eyes. “She won’t be joining us, and there is no one around to save you.” He gestures to two blurry men near him “Kill them, they have no use to us.” Jaskier starts shaking and Geralt’s eyes widen “No...no no no that can’t be right, Geralt, tell them she’d never…” Arkelia runs forward, fear taking over any coherent thought left in her mind. Her friend and mentor were in danger, and she didn’t have time to plan ahead.  _

_ She draws her silver sword from the scabbard on her back and lunges towards the red-eyed creature.It stands stock-still, even as her blade slices through it, but, the creature laughs that dark laugh again, and Arkelia looks up at it. Her blade had gone through the creature, without harming it whatsoever, like she wasn’t even there. Her heart starts to pound, fear once again gripping her thoughts. She looks to Geralt and Jaskier, but they stare past her, still focused on the monster. Arkelia starts to glance frantically around, not sure what was happening. “She did, the moment she saw the chance to run, she ran, and she left you both to die.” The creature kneels in front of Geralt, looking him in the eyes. He seems… defeated, like his only ally has abandoned him to die. Jaskier looks equally deflated, his shoulders sagging, and his usual bright face dark and solemn. “Go on, there’s no use tormenting them any longer.”  _

_ Two blurry figures stand next to Geralt and Jaskier, their dark blades glinting in the torchlight, and strike towards their throats. Arkelia screams as the severed heads of her companions hit the dirt, dark, thick blood staining the ground red. She falls to her knees, hands trembling, and tears streak her face. “This is what you deserve, to watch everyone you’ve ever loved die, over… and over… and over.” Her head whips toward the voice, the creature with red eyes staring down at her, not through her. He kneels in front of her, grabbing her throat in a clawed vice-grip. He leans close to her ear as he grips her throat, puncturing the skin. “Wake. Up.” The world goes black as the creature snaps her neck, letting her limp form strike the ground.  _

Arkelia wakes up gasping for air, hand darting to her throat with a fearful look in her eyes. She feels a hand on her shoulder, grounding her in reality. “Arkelia… are you alright?” Cahir’s voice floats quietly to her ears as she gets her bearings. “I...I think so, what happened?” She pushes herself up to her elbows, feeling her shoulder scream. “You passed out, but not before we saw the vision you had.” Fringilla’s voice carries from across the room, catching Arkelia off-guard. She sits up completely and takes a second to understand where she is, a fairly small bedroom, most likely still in the mayor’s house, with the same dark colors as the rest of the building. Cahir sits in a chair next to her and Fringilla stands near the doorframe, a solemn look on her face. “I had hoped to have more time to speak, but once Geralt noticed your absence he, well, he overreacted” Thinly-veiled fear hides on Cahir’s voice as he speaks, Arkelia knows how Geralt reacts to anything out-of-place, especially when it came to anyone close to him. Heavy footsteps sound from the hallway, and Fringilla quickly moves out of the way as Geralt storms in, golden eyes flaring. “Arkelia, you’re alright.” Any relief that could have been in his voice was masked by frustration. Arkelia rolls her eyes “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” she lets venom seep into her words as she speaks, still annoyed from earlier. Yesterday? She didn’t know what day or time it was, she was angry. “Come on, we’re leaving. We need to head for Aedirn, soon.” Geralt turns and starts to leave the room, and Arkelia sighs attempting to stand up, the moment she places weight on it, her ankle gives out. Cahir grabs her arm and sets her down, Geralt whips back towards Arkelia as she doubles over to check her ankle. “You sprained your ankle?” He seemed more shocked than disappointed, as if he didn’t hurt himself while learning to be a Witcher. “Must’ve sprained it when I fell, it was a long way down.” She’s almost thankful for her injury, though Cahir grabbing her arm definitely tore the stitches in her shoulder. Geralt’s eyes flash as he thinks for a moment “Hell, fine, we’ll stay until you can walk again, I don’t want a griffon tearing your head off” His grumpy nature shining through like a stormcloud on a bright day. Arkelia glares back toward Geralt “What’s so important in Aedirn? A Griffon? You’ve fought hundreds of Griffons, why don’t you just go by yourself, wouldn't have to deal with me” She gets quieter with her last sentence, almost a whisper. Geralt opens his mouth to say something snarky in response, but closes it and stomps off, leaving the room silent.

Arkelia shudders as she feels blood dripping from the now-reopened wound on her shoulder, Cahir and Fringilla look at each other for a moment, like they’re having some silent conversation, before Fringilla’s eyes flick to Arkelia’s shoulder and widen. “Your shoulder, Arkelia…” She quickly kneels next to her, almost pushing Cahir out of his chair. “What happened?”

“It’s from my fall, I stitched it up, but I guess I tore them.” She finally looks at it, and her shirt is dark red, the cut was bleeding much more than when she fell. Fringilla pulls up her sleeve to show the cut, it looks much larger than when she first saw it. Fringilla shoos Cahir toward the back of the room and grabs a cloth from a basin nearby, cleaning the blood from her shoulder. “You must’ve fallen far to get hurt this badly.” Fringila keeps her voice level as she finds a needle and thread to stitch her shoulder. “You said you fell into the monster’s den, why did Geralt abandon you?” Cahir leans against the wall, poking his head into the hallway. “I don’t know, ask him.” Arkelia grits her teeth as Fringilla starts sewing the gash in her shoulder. “He doesn’t care much normally, much less when i’m involved, thank the Sun I’ll be free from him soon.” She bites her tongue as Fringilla continues stitching her shoulder, pulling the thread. “I thought you said you're from Kovir?” Cahir gives her an appraising look and her face flushes red “Well, I was born in Kovir, but I was raised by Nilfgaardians in Kaedwen, a Witch named Pareilla and a soldier, Malorain.” Arkelia hisses through her teeth as Fringilla finishes stitching her shoulder and snaps the end of the thread. “I thought Witcher’s didn’t feel?” There was a hint of humor in Frigilla’s voice, punctuated by Cahir laughing quietly from the doorway. Arkelia scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Well, I don’t care what anyone thinks we can or can’t feel, that hurt like hell.” Fringilla smiles and washes the blood off of her hands in the basin. “Now it makes sense that you trusted us, you could’ve told us the truth from the start.” Arkelia shrugs halfway, but catches herself before she moves her shoulder too much. “It didn’t seem important at the time. Since I might be here for a while, I might as well ask, what did you need to talk about, Cahir?” He stands from the doorway and steps forward to sit in his chair. “There’s only one reason the White Flame would call on you.” Cahir gathers her hands in his “Your destiny lies with Nilfgaard, in whatever form it may take. I can tell you don’t feel like you’ve belonged anywhere. In the way you fight, the way you speak, I wanted to ask you where you feel you belong, truly.” His earnest tone of voice causing Arkelia to flush red. She thinks for a moment, she was raised by Nilfgaaridans, she acts and fights like them, she talks mostly like a Kovirian, but with the occasional touch of a Nilfgaardian accent that she picked up from Pareilla. She tried to imagine being in a city full of people who all acted like Malorain and Pareilla, their militaristic actions, their language, everything. It was an odd feeling, but it felt just as isolating. “You don’t need to answer now, just, think about it.” He releases her hands and turns to leave the room. Fringilla steps in front of Arkelia, looking at her like a worried mother duck. “Please, be careful on your feet, you don’t want to hurt yourself more than you already are.” Arkelia rolls her eyes “I’ll be fine, but, I promise to be careful.” Fringilla gives her a curt nod and tilts her head “I have one question for you, you needn't answer now, but it’s been on my mind. If it was your choice, which side would you take?” Arkelia’s head snaps up, and her eyes bore into Fringilla’s “Witchers… Witchers aren’t supposed to take sides, we just…”

“Kill monsters, I know. But, if you had to choose, this is not a threat, mind you, Which would you choose?” Arkelia racks her brain for an answer, similar to Cahir’s question, it was a matter of family. Her mother, the wretched bitch, was from the northern kingdoms, and most everyone she knew in Kovir hated her, and was glad when she left. But almost every Nilfgaardian she’s ever met in her life had always been trustworthy and mostly kind, albeit in their own way. It should have been an easy question, to go by her gut, but something worried her. It was clear that they wanted her on their side, a useful ally that could be used as… Well, pest control. Fringilla opens her mouth to speak but Arkelia interupts her “Nilfgaard, you fight to bring down the tyranny of the Northern kingdoms, and for that I commend you all, but… I’m as Nilfgaardian as Cahir, I grew up influenced by your culture, but I’m no Nilfgaardian.” She pauses, trying to gauge Fringilla’s reaction. “Just between you and I, if possible… I’d like to join you. Once I've become a full Witcher, I’d try to come back, without Geralt being suspicious? I don’t know…” 

She trails off, feeling like an idiot. Fringilla’s face brightens into a smile. “We would be proud to have you among our ranks, Witcher.” Arkelia tries to match her excitement, but she falls a bit short. “We’ll welcome you with open arms, when you’re ready to join us. For now, I’ll keep this conversation between us, and you need to get some rest and heal.” She turns from Arkelia and leaves her in the quiet room with her thoughts. Arkelia lays back down, careful not to jolt her ankle, and closes her eyes listening to the quiet sounds of rain as it starts to fall on the roof, relaxing as she drifts into the darkness of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I’m sorry this took so long! I’m working on a few other projects to show y’all! I’ll make sure and make a note about them once they’re ready!*


	4. Author's Apology

Hey Y’all! Sorry for the thicc ass hiatus! (That was a bad joke I know, shoot me)

I have had plenty of time to write, I know, but all of this insanity with quarantine has been wreaking havoc on my mental health 🙃 but, I promise I’ll be writing much more in the near future, I’ve been reading the books and I’m playing the 3rd game and I’ve seen playthroughs of the 2nd game (I’m a broke-ass senior who doesn’t have the time) and I’ve changed a few things (You’ll notice the tags lol) with characters and fleshed out the plot a bit more as new ideas came in, I’ll also have drawings of different characters as time goes on, so look out for that lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long note :) hope y’all enjoy the new stuff, see ya next chapter!


	5. Honor and Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a bit of Nilfgaardian thrown around in this chapter, the translations are in the note at the end, I used the dictionary from the fan Wiki (https://witcher.fandom.com/wiki/Nilfgaardian_language)  
> hope you enjoy!

2 Years Later...

The Noonwraith screeches, its dangling tongue flailing much too closely to Arkelia’s face. With a quick swipe, Arkelia finally ends the weeping creature’s undeath, its howls fading into the wind as it turns to dust. “Hell, that took way too long.” Arkelia plops down on a rock, taking a moment to catch her breath and relax, the potions she took making her blood feel like fire. Putting her head in her hands, she takes a few deep breaths and walks to Griffon, patting the horse's shiny black neck before pulling herself into the saddle. Arkelia spurs Griffon forward, following the rough path back to Beuclair, and thinking about how painfully similar Toussaint is to Kaedwen, the soaring mountains and thick forests feeling familiar, but just as dangerous.  _ I wonder how those idiots are doing… Mikael and Michael, two of the only bards I can stomach, _ she laughs quietly to herself, thinking of all the twin's antics when they had traveled together. "Those two made quite the mess of things, didn't they Griffon?" The horse snorts, tossing her head. Arkelia stretches, holding her arms above her head before wincing and holding her ribs. 'Sheyss, ow?' She cranes her head to see what hurts, four jagged slices cutting across her left ribs, bleeding steadily. "Bloede d'yaebl…" Arkelia curses, her side throbbing as her adrenaline wears down. She thinks for a moment, remembering she'd used the last of her thread the day before, fixing her leather cuirass, which she now had to sew again. She groans, annoyed that she hadn't thought to buy more before leaving the town.  _ It'll have to wait, I'll buy more thread with the coin I'll get for the wraith… _ she spurs Griffon forward at a quicker pace, wrapping some spare cloth around her abdomen to slow the blood. "Comeon girl, let's hurry a bit yeah?" Soon, the city walls are finally visible, the Metinna gate tall and inviting "we're back girl, let's try not to get run out of town eh?" Griffon snorts and Arkelia secures her cloak's hood over her silver hair, trying to look personable. She ducks under a tree branch and dismounts, holding Griffon's reins in her hand as she approaches the gate. She bows her head to the guard as they pass, leading Griffon behind her as she crosses into the bustling streets. She finds her usual watering trough and ties Griffon near it "be back soon girl, promise" Arkelia looks around for a moment, not entirely sure where Rina would be hiding this time of day.  _ Maybe the Clever Clog… I'll start there _ she starts walking, taking a deep breath as her side throbs, reminding her to find some thread and bandages as soon as possible. She moves quickly through the streets, avoiding close contact with anyone and covering her side, trying to avoid suspicion. Soon, she hops up a familiar set of stairs and reaches the Clever Clog's door, pushing it open and catching a whiff of cheap perfume and ale as she heads inside. "ah, look ho' it is!" Arkelia turns toward the familiar voice "Robin goddamn Tenierr, it's been a few months hasn't it?" She shoots the innkeeper a smile and sits across from Robin "how've you been doing?"

"I was lookin' for ya lass, heard you was in town, was wantin' to talk to ya" Arkelia smiles, wincing a bit "sorry mate, it'll have to wait, unless you've seen Rina around anywhere? Owes me some coin for a contract, and, between us, I need to get some thread to patch myself up." Robin looks hurt for a second then brightens again "I think I spotted 'er near the bakery, ya know how much she loves pies…" he trails off for a moment and smiles again "anyway, speaking of getting patched up, I think I have some thread in my pack, I'd be glad to give it to ya, now don't give me that look lass, you of all people should know how much I'm indebted to ya, let me do this one thing for ya." Arkelia is about to try to protest when a hand grips her shoulder, squeezing lightly. Her hand shoots up and grabs the man's wrist, jerking his hand off of her and twisting her side painfully. "Who the hell do you think you are?" She hisses, expecting a drunk idiot that somehow mistook her as a harlot, but her eyes meet the frightened indigo eyes of a young man, wearing black-and-gold riding attire. "S-sorry madam Witcher… I-I 'ave a letter for you, I did not mean to startle you…" he winces and Arkelia releases her grip on the man's wrist. He hands her a sealed letter, a sun pressed into the wax seal, the man turns to leave and Arkelia carefully grabs his arm "who the hell are you?" He sputters for a moment "Zander, I’m just a courier, I ‘ave no idea who the letter’s from, I was just told to bring it you" she could tell he was hiding an accent, every few words a bit of a Nilfgaardian accent slipped through, but she lets him go and he scurries away, leaving the inn and running back to wherever he's appeared from. Robin peers across the table at Arkelia's letter "huh, alright, that was weird as hell" 

"You've got that right… this is a Nilfgaardian seal…" she mutters to herself and inspects the letter, it looks innocent enough, so she breaks the seal and opens it, carefully flattening the paper on the table. Robin leans closer to Arkelia, trying to read it upside-down "ugh, of course it's in Nilfgaardian… I can't read any of that nonsense." Arkelia scoffs "it isn't meant for you to read, dolt, I can read it just fine." The neat cursive letters emanating the typical superiority expected of Nilfgaard.

'Dearest Witcher, it has come to my attention that you are as of now, in Beauclair. If you realize who this letter is from, you will know exactly what I am about to say. Almost two years ago, in the small border town we met, I asked where your allegiance lies, and you, of course, know your response. I ask you now for your help, dear friend, ending a few unwanted monster's lives, if you accept, you know where to find us. We're expecting you.

Fringilla Vigo'

Arkelia sits back in her chair, gnawing lightly at the edge of her thumb, remembering that day "two years now… I didn't realize how long ago that was" she mutters, just loud enough that Robin had heard. "Two years? What're you talking about lass?" Arkelia looks at Robin for a moment "do you remember the story I told you when we met in Vizima?" 

"Of course, the Nilfgaardians you and the old man killed the Kikimora for, when ya got that scar on yer shoulder! Wait, wait, that's from them, ain't it?" She nods once, a bit dismissive, and sighs. Thinking for a moment, she smiles "don't worry too much about it Robin, where were we before this whole debacle?" Robin laughs and looks her in the eye "I'll take yer word for it Witcher, I was saying, and now, ye can't refuse my offer, I'm gonna bring you my thread, so you can patch yerself up, gottit?" She smiles and lets out a nervous chuckle. "Fine, fine, I'll be right here when you get back." Robin hops up, hurrying upstairs, presumably to his room to grab the thread. The Innkeep, noticing her solitude, walks over "hey lass, cannae get you anything to eat or drink? You seem like ya need some ale an' a good meal." Arkelia looks at him, surprised he isn't ranting about how horrid witchers are, as is usual anywhere else on the continent, "uh, just some bread and meat if you don't mind, and water, no ale for me sir." He seems confused but shrugs "suit yourself, I'll be right back with your food lass." As the Innkeeper leaves, Robin sits back in the chair across from Arkelia again "you'll find the people around here a bit more tolerant of your kind, anyway, everyone's too drunk to care" he smiles and sets a spool of black thread on the table. "Thank you Robin, ha, what would I do without you?" She smiles, taking the spool and reaching for her coin purse "ah, no, I'm not taking any of your coin, like I said, it's a thank you for all the times you've saved me life. Not something I want payment fer, and before ye say anythin', I'm paying for yer meal as well, another thank you." Arkelia sputters for a moment, not sure how to react "thank you Robin, for all of this, truly, you've always been a good friend and companion." He grins, glad to avoid an argument. The Innkeeper walks back to the table and sets down a wooden plate with bread and some meat on the table, and Robin hands him some coins. “Now then, you need to patch yerself up, Does Griffon ‘ave Bandages in ‘er saddlebag?” Arkelia nods and Robin stands up to head outside “Griffon’s tied in the stables just inside the Metinna gate, she’ll be easy to find.” Robin nods and heads outside, she takes her cloak off, glad that they’re sitting near the corner of the room. She unties the now-soaked spare cloth from her side, careful not to stretch too much. Taking another look at the cuts, they’re not bleeding as much, but they’re just as painful. She takes the needle and thread Robin brought her, and starts carefully stitching the first gash, wincing with each stab. Halfway through the third, Robin walks back to the table, setting the roll of bandages in front of her. “Thanks Robin.” He smiles and laughs quietly “Ya keep saying that, it’s a bit funny, being thanked by a Witcher when they’re the one who’s saved ya.” Arkelia smiles, trying not to laugh and risk stabbing herself with the sewing needle. 

“It is a bit funny, but, it’s my job to save people.” She snaps the last stitch and grabs the bandages, pulling her tunic up and wrapping her abdomen. “It’s not your job to help me, so you’re the one that deserves thanks.” She smiles at him, her genuine happiness something she hadn’t felt in a while. “Well, yer welcome lass, ‘m just trying to repay my debt.” 

After an hour of talking and eating, Arkelia puts her cloak on and stands from the table. “It was nice to see you again Robin, but I have a contract to collect, and a horse to tend to.” Robin stands, smiling again. “Thank ya lass, I hope i’ve repaid at least some of my debt.” Arkelia laughs, shaking her head “I told you back in Vizima, you don’t owe me anything Robin.” She turns and heads outside, hoping that Rina was still close to the bakery, and she wouldn’t have to search for her. She thinks back to the letter from Fringilla, knowing that, finally, after 2 years she had her chance. As she reaches the bakery, her vision starts to swim, and she leans against the wall. Sinking to the ground, she puts her head in her hands and tries to steady her breathing.  _ This is what you deserve, to watch everyone you’ve ever loved die, over… and over… and over  _ Her head whips up, glancing around terrified of what she might see, but no one is near her. She stands on shaky legs and grabs her pendant, the silver flame cold in her palm as she takes a few deep breaths, steadying herself. “Witcher? Hey, Witcher!” A woman’s voice pierces the air, and hands grip her shoulders, Rina’s face showing up in front of her. “Hey, you alright love?” 

“Yeah. yeah, i’m alright, sorry” She chuckles, nervous, remembering where she’s heard that voice before. “I dealt with the Noonwraith, poor thing was cheated by her to-be husband.” Arkelia tries to brush off the sinking feeling in her stomach, but she just couldn’t shake it. “Thank you so much Witcher, here’s your coin, if there is anything, anything at all you need, I would be honored to help.” Arkelia shakes her head “No, there’s nothing I need from you, go home, and enjoy the peace of mind.” Rina smiles, turning and walking off, leaving Arkelia to her thoughts. “What the hell was that…'' She remembers the nightmare she had after showing Fringilla the vision she’d had in the old monastery, and the other, worse nightmares that followed over the last 2 years. She shudders, a chill racing up her spine  _ I have to leave this place, maybe… maybe if I go back, they’ll stop, and I can have peace of mind again _ Arkelia turns, walking back towards the gate, planning on leaving as soon as possible. As she reaches Griffon, the horse bumps her head, neighing softly “ Hey girl, you ready to head south again? Neither am I... neither am I.” She pats Griffon’s head petting her neck as she saddles up, strapping on her saddle and bags. Mounting her horse, she spurs her down the road, heading south towards Nilfgaard, through the mountain passes, to the little town, where everything she’s been hoping for is waiting. She’s torn from her thoughts as she hears a set of hoofbeats behind her. She turns slowly, careful of the stitches in her side, a black horse trots down the road toward her, a hooded figure sitting astride it. She squints, trying to guess who it is, and notices their outfit, a black and gold riding outfit, and a bright golden sun on their chest.  _ Nilfgaardian  _ She turns Griffon to address the hooded figure, trying to peer past the shadows. “Gloir aen Ard Feainn, vatt'ghern” He raises his right hand in greeting, bowing his head to stay in the shadows.

“Gloir aen Ard Feainn, schijtleister” The man noticeably winces, shrinking in the saddle at being called a coward. “Many apologies madam, I did not feel safe revealing who I am in a crowded tavern, I hope you understand.” Zander removes his hood, and Arkelia takes a first good look at him, his dusty blonde hair tousled, and he couldn’t have been older than 24, those odd indigo eyes glinting in the sunset. “Who are you then? I can tell you’re no ordinary courier” Zander nods, reining his horse to stop in front of her “I did not lie about my name, it is Zander, but I’m an Imperial assassin, sent by the sorceress Fringilla Vigo to give you that latter, and make sure you made it safely to Nilfgaard’s border.” Arkelia blinks for a moment, unsure what to say. “You’re an assassin? Fringilla and Cahir sent a Sun forsaken assassin to bring me back.” Zander nods, his horse stamping her feet impatiently. Arkelia sighs, shaking her head and looking down at Griffon “well girl, it seems we’ll have another travel partner” She speaks quietly, Patting her horse’s neck as she looks back to Zander “Alright assassin, just stay out of my way.” She turns Griffon back to the road, spurring her forward again, half hoping Zander would leave her alone, but he quickly trots to match her pace beside her, replacing his hood and quietly watching the sun drop behind the mountains, and the first stars beginning to dot the horizon.  _ This will definitely be interesting _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Sheyss: Damnnit  
> Bloede d'yaebl: Bloody Devil  
> Gloir aen Ard Feainn: Praise be the Great Sun  
> Vatt'ghern: Witcher  
> Schijtleister: Coward


End file.
